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JULOO Y 






i PON mi: 



LIFE, (MIA 11 ACT K U AND SERVICES 



OF 



HENRY CLAY. 



2 



PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE COMMON COUNCIL AND 
CITIZENS OF CHICAGO. JULY 20, L852. 



BY S. LISLE SMITH, ESQ. 



I 



6 E CO N I) i: D I I I u s . 

ITBLISHED I'.V S. 0. GRIGGS 



CHICAGO: 
DAILY JOUR N A I. O K F 1 C E PRO I 

1852. 



? 



-*e-~0-c-' 



E U LOG V 



i row nit; 



LIFE, CHARACTER AND SERVICES 



OF 



HENRY CLAY, 



PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE COMMON COUNCIL AM) 
CITIZENS OF CHICAGO, JULY 20, 1852. 



BY S. LISLE SMITH, ESQ. 



BKCONU 1 : I > I T I O N . 

BLISHED BY S. 0. GRIGGS & CO. 



CHICAGO: 
DAILY JOURNAL OFFICE PRINT 

1852. 



COR RES POX di:nce. 



CHICAGO, July 21st, 1852. 
S. LISLE SMITH, Eg* :— 

Dear Sir : — The undersigned, believing that the pub- 
lication of the Eulogy pronounced by you, on the en he Funeral Ob equies 
of Henry Clay at Chicago, on the 20th in.-t., would be highly satisfactory to our 
citizens, and the public generally, would, on behalf of themselves, and the other 
members of the Joint Committee of Arrangements, respectfully request a c«'py 
for the purpose indicated. 

Very truly Yours, 



J. L. JAMES, 
J. H KINZIE, 
I. N. ARNOLD, 
U. P. HARRIS, 



II. G. SHUMWAY, 
A. J. BROWN, 
A UNO VOSS, 
ISAAC COOK, 



JOHN ROGERS. 



CHICAGO, July 22d, 1862. 
Gentlemen : — Your letter, requesting a copy of the Eulogy pronounced by my- 
self upon Mr. Clay, for publication, is received. 

Thanking you for the manner in which you are pleased to speak of the humble 
tribute referred to, I herewith transmit you a copy of the same. 

Very truly, S. LISLE SMITH. 

J. L. James, H. G. Sliumway, U. P. Uahris, Esqs., and others. 



EULOCrl 



"In Rama there was a voice hoard — lamentation and weeping, and threat mourn 
ing: — Rachel wee] her children, and would not be comforted, because thej 

are not." 

Mourn — Sons and Daughters of America ! — mourn. A great light has 
gone cut. A bright star has di from the horizon. A glorious 

Sun lias o-one down in the West — never again in our world to i 

Mourn — Statesmen of America! — mourn! One of the wisest and 

most experienced of your numb< r, thai have gra 1 the annals of our 

history, has joined the great and the good, in the world above. 

Mourn — Patriots of America! The soul of one of our countr/a no 
blest sons, has winged its flight to the Spirit Land. 

Mourn — Philanthropist and lovers of Liberty throughout the world — 
a great benefactor of his race has been gathered to his Fathers. Mourn 
— for Henry Clay is dead ! 

Already have tl» chambers of our Legislative Halls been clad witl 
drapery of mourning; — already have the associates of his trials and con- 
quests, in the great arena of his intellectual confli* I . the last tribute 
of affection to the memory of the mighty dead. Aln >mn 
procession wended its way through our crowded cities, our i. ras, 
our smiling villages — amid bells, and booming cann 
thousands of torches illur the darl 

lifeless remains to the silent city of the dead. Already have thousands, 
and tens of thousands of freemen gazed upon the lineaments of the great 
departed, and fun would "beg a hairof him fur memory." Already b; . 
the full heart of the American people exclaimed — 
" Bear hence his body, 
And mourn you for him. Let him be regarded 
As the noblest corpse that ever herald 
Did follow to his Urn 



6 

Already have been spoken the solemn words — " Dust to dust — ashes to 
ashes — earth to earth !" The shroud, the coffin, the sepulchre, are all that 
now remains of Henry Clay. All that remains, did I say ? God forbid ! 
■ — " His fame survives — bounded only by the limits of the earth, and by 
the extent of the human mind. He survives in our hearts — in the ptow- 
ing knowledge of our children-^-in the affections of the good throughout 
the world," And when the walls of our Capitol shall have crumbled 
into dust — when nations now existing shall be no more — or shall only 
live in history, like Assyria, or Babylon, or ancient Greece, his name will 
not die, until love of virtue ceases on earth — but his name and his fame 
will grow brighter and brighter, until earth itself sinks into chaos, and 
until circling moons shall wax and wane no more. 

Our whole nation mourns. It is like a family bereaved of its head. 
Political animosities are forgotten. Parties but lately arrayed in bitter 
hostility against each other, now meet to mingle their tears o'er the grave 
of the illustrious dead. All feel that a great link that connected us with 
the days of our country's early history, has been severed ; that a void, an 
aching void, is created in our Nation's Council ; that another great man 
has fallen in Israel ; " that the strong staff is broken, and the beautiful 
rod." 

Were it not that the light of civilization and revelation has d awned 
upon our path-way ; were it not that we are travelers and pilgrims through 
this vale of tears ; were it not that this life is but the commencement of 
an infinite existence ; were it not that we are taught by Holy Writ, that 
" the days of our years are three score years and ten — and if by reason of 
strength they be four score, yet is their strength labor and sorrow," we 
might in the fullness of our overflowing hearts, be tempted to exclaim — 

" Hung be the Heavens with black — yield day to night ! 
Comets, importing change of times and states — 
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky ; 
And with them scourge the bad, revolting stars, 
That have consented unto Henry's death ! " 

We are here, fellow citizens, with mourning spirits, to pay the last tri- 
bute of affection to the memory of our departed Statesman. But amid 
our sorrow, let us not forget that stricken one, now beside that desolate 
hearth, who feels this bereavement with an intensity that has no parallel 
in the national sorrow. This blow has fallen with untold unguish upon 
the head of the aged widow, whose hoary locks and trembling limbs, 



V 



admonish her and us, that the time of ber departure is neai .-it hand. 

We are told thai "when David returned in triumph to J< a, be 

invited the aged Barazilli to <j,<> up and reside with him at Court, but he 
ilcriin, .I it on account of his age and infirmities, and begged th i King 
take his son in his place. 

In the same spirit, this venerable and ezcellen matron, sending one of 
her children to the Capitol, chose rather to remain in her retirement, than 
to share the honors awarded to her distinguished husband. ! well 
knew thai the sands of his hour-glass were gradually <1 away; 

that anxiety and public care were rapidly wasting his strength; that the 
hand of disease was upon him; but duty called him away from the joys 
of that fireside — and slio well l.n< v that he always obeyed that call. 
She bade him the last farewell. Oh what must bp the sorrow of that 
aged companion of his joys and sorrows?"* Upon the sanctity of that 
grief I cannot trespass. 

The Grecian painter, though he could display on the glowing canvass 
the manly sympathy of Achilles, and the stubborn grief of Ulysses, 
threw a veil o'er grief that could not be portrayed. Language is inade- 
quate to depict that great affliction; but let us commend her to the God 
of the Widow, and let our aspirations ascend, that her pathway to the 
tomb be smoothed — that the Comforter will bind up the broken heart, 
pour oil and wine into the bleeding bosom, and give her "beauty for 
ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garments of praise for the 
spirit of heaviness." 

" Eulogy has mistaken her province and her powers, when she assumes 
for her theme 1 ' the glory of Henry Clay. It was the beautiful remark 
of the Poet — 

" Would you praise Cfcsar, say — C;csar, go no farther." 

The deeds and the virtues of Henry Clay are his high enlogrums; his 
deeds most familiar to your memory — his virtues most dear to your affec- 
tions. To me, therefore there is nothing permitted but to borrow from 
yourselves; and although a pencil more daring than mine would languish 
in attempting to retrace the living lines which the finger of truth has 
drawn upon your hearts, you will bear with me whilst, on a subject which 
dignifies everything related to it, 

" I tell what you yourselves do know." 

To the philosophical observer of the human rare, it would appear, that 

"■Sermon of H. A. Boardman, on the death of W'm. Henry Harrison. 



the gratitude of mankind should be drawn to their benefactors; that alt 
should love to honor those, who, by a long life of untiring devotion to 
their country's good, have adorned the age and the country in which their 
lot was cast. A number of these have successively arisen, no more distin- 
guished by the lustre of their talents, than by the elevation of their virtues. 
Of those, however, who were born and acted through life as if they acted 
not for themselves, but for their country, and the whole human race, how 
few are recorded in the long annals of ages, and how wide the intervals 
of time and space that divide them ? In all the dreary length of way, 
they appear, as has been beautifully remarked, " like five or six light- 
houses, in as many thousand w r eary miles of coast. They gleam upon the 
surrounding darkness with unextingnishable splendor, like stars seen 
through a mist," to guide and direct the weary mariner, when tossed 
upon the billows of an uncertain ocean. 

In our day and generation, one such benefactor has been vouchsafed to 
us — one whose whole life was that of unselfish aspiration — one whose 
patriotism has burnt as pure and bright as the vestal's liame — one upon 
the drama of whose life the curtain has just fallen. 

On the 12th day of April, A. D., 1777, Henry Clay was born. The 
son of a poor Baptist clergyman, he was early deprived by death of the 
counsels of his father, and was left to the care of a widowed mother. 
She trained him to a love of truth, and cultivated that high, moral sense, 
for which he has ever been distinguished. 

In no position in life, does the character of this world-renowned States- 
man appear to better advantage, than w T hen, to the eye of memory, he is 
seen, as the " Mill Boy of the Slashes," trudging to mill, and discharging 
those filial duties, to which he was so devoted. 

And here let me, in passing, refer for a moment to a fact, that bears 
most honorable testimony to the holy influence of a mother. In casting 
our eyes over the history of our country, we cannot fail to be struck with 
the circumstance, that a very large proportion of the eminent men who 
have adorned our annals, were left at a tender age to the care of widowed 
mothers. 

" This tell to mothers ; what a holy charge 
Is their's ; with what a kingly power their love 
Might rule the fountain of the new-born mind ; 
Warn them to wake at early dawn, and sow 
Good seeds before the world doth sow its tare^." 

At the curly age of twenty he obtained a license for the practice of the 



Law. The field that presented itself in his native Stair-, was too narrow 
for the exercise of his ambition, or the aver (crowd- 

ed. He saw the germ of future power in the pathless forests and bound- 
less prairies of the western world; and hitherward, with friend but 
his own right arm, with no wealth but an nnsullied character, b< came a 
youthful pioneer ; or, to use the graphic and touching language of Chief 
Justice Robinson — "He came leanii : alone on Providence, a widowed 
mother's prayers, and the untutored talents with which <<<>d had bl< — 1 
him." 

Kentucky was not th< n as now, th garden of out land. Those lovely 
meadows were not then as now, waving with the fruits of agriculture. 
The song of the reaper was not theu resounding o'er those beautiful har- 

i fields, that now exeite the admiration of the traveler or the stranger* 
Those flowery wood pastures were not then reclaimed by tie' industry of 
man. No! that gallant State wi • then known as the u battle-field and 
hunting-ground of the red man." There, tie' numerous tribes of savages 
who roamed through out land, assembled to chase the bounding doe, or 
to meet the hostile array; and there pealed tie- horrid war-whoop, tie- 
signal of devastation and of death. Each licking, at which the antlered 
stag came to slake his thirst, was reddened by the blood of tie' red man. 
Each mound contained the bones of the massacred and the murdered. 
Toil, danger and privation, were to be the companion- < ( the youthful 
pioneer; but these he heeded not, for well did he know that the toils and 
sorrows of youth, like the rains of spring, would produce th' rich har- 
vests of manhood. 

The political career of this distinguished Statesman commenced at a 
peculiarly interesting period of our history. The people of Kentucky 
were about forming a new Constitution, and the State was convulsed by 
the efforts of contending factions. At this i sane.' \ 

that afterward pleaded the cause of struggling freemen — the sane- voice 
that inspired the patriot of South America, an 1 the lean of the 

struggling Greek, was raised on behalf of the down-trodden and oppressed 
African. An interesting feature in the new Constitution. 
tion for prospective emancipation. Dr. Franklin had proposed a similar 
plan in Pennsylvania; and his profound sagacity and enlightened wisdom, 
can now be discerned, in the general prosperity and happiness of the 
people of the Key-stone Stat''. 

Much is said in our day of the evil and moral guilt of slavery, and 
many are the plans presented to the consideration of the philanthropis*- 



10 

for the abolition, the peaceful abolition, of this admitted evil. So delicate 
however, is the question, under the peculiar relations of the Federal Con- 
stitution, that there is no subject, that more agitates the minds of the 
reflecting portion of our people, than to discover a plan — a certain and 
peaceful method of wiping out the foul blot upon our national escutcheon. 
The feeling, however, in reference to the moral guilt of slavery, has been 
but of late years enkindled. Rush, Rawle, Lafayette, and Wilberforce, 
were the first pioneers in the cause of emancipation ; and few were the 
followers enlisted under the banners of those gifted champions of human 
rights. Henry Clay was one. Is it therefore claiming too much to 
say, that a young advocate of liberty, who, in the latter part of the last 
century, boldly encounters the passions and prejudices that hem in the 
" peculiar institution," and fearlessly proclaims prospective emancipation 
as a principle of the organic law, is entitled to a rank higher among the 
benefactors of his race ? If the counsels of Henry Clay had been re- 
garded, Kentucky wovld now have been a free State; and slavery, with 
its blight and its mildew, would soon be banished from its borders. 

He was, whilst but in the bloom of early manhood, twice elected to the 
United Stetes Senate, to serve the residue of terms rendered vacant by 
the resignation of his predecessors; and in the year 1811, he was elected 
to the House of Representatives. On his first appearance in that body, 
he was elected Speaker. This, I believe, is the only instance on record, 
where any individual has been elevated to the third office in the Govern- 
ment, who has not been, prior to his election, a member of the House 
over which he was called to preside, and was a signal compliment to the 
rising greatness of the great Statesman of the West. Without any dis- 
paragement to the many distinguished citizens who have discharged the 
duties of Speaker, it may safely be said, that no one ever discharged those 
high and responsible duties with more manly impartiality and ability than 
Henry Clay ; and the fact, that no decision of the Speaker was ever re- 
versed by the House, is a striking proof of the confidence of the House 
in their presiding officer. 

Time will not allow me to recapitulate the eminent services rendered to 
the country by the Speaker of the House of Representatives. The Re- 
publican party at that time had a majority in both branches of the Na- 
tional Legislature. 

Macon, Gaston, Cheeves, Calhoun, Lowndes, and a host of other emi- 
nent men, sustained the administration of Mr. Madison. Among these 
proudly conspicuous, stood Henry Clay. The injuries inflicted on out 



11 

commerce by the British Order in Council — the impressment of our 
meu — the influence of British Agents in exciting the western tribes of 
Indians to deeds of midnight massacre and murder, had produced ;i pow- 
erful feeling of mdignation in our land. Merchantmen plundered and 
confiscated on the highway oi nations; seven thousand American citu 
pining in foreign prisons, or condemned to a fate more bard : — compelled 
to bear anus against their own brothers; hundreds of blazing and burning 
cabins; thousands of scalped and violated victims of [ndian barbarity! 
called in tones of thrilling power upon the American people, to rise in 
defense of their dearest rights. Forbearance ceased to b*' a virtue. ] 
non-importation, the non-intercourse, the embargo, had been tried, but 
without success; nothing was left for a gallant people, but an appeal to 
the God of Battles. 

In the galaxy of distinguished men who participated in the debai' 
that day, no one manifested a loftier patriotism, or displayed a □ ore chiv- 
alric courage, than the Speaker of the House of Representatives. In the 
very midst of that strife his noble plume was seen waving in the battle's 
van — and his voice sounded like a clarion, calling upon the patriots of the 
land to rally around the standard of their country. Listen to it : — 

"The colors that float at the mast-head shall be the credentials of our 
seamen. * * * * In such a cause, with the aid of Providei 
we must come out, crowned with sueeess; but if we fail, let us tail like 
men; lash ourselves to our gallant tars, and expire in one common strug- 
gle, fighting for Free Trad'' and Sailor's Rights." 

It was a remark of Mr. Jefferson, 1 think, that in the Continental Con- 
gress, John Adams was the Colossus of the War of our Independei 
That bold and daring spirit swept aw ay like cobwebs the arguments of the 
opposition — and his noble appeals animated and inspired his hearers. 
With equal propriety may it be said, that Henry Clay was the Colos-n- 
of the second War of Independence. He it was, who infused new life 
into the Administration — animated its counsels, directed ii- energies, and 
sustained its measures ; and his manly and noble spirit impressed itself 
upon the deliberations of the Nation's Council; and such was the e ( >nfi- 
dence of the wise Madison, that he tendered t<> him the office of Com- 
mander in Chief the United States Army — a post which, for reasons 
highly honorable and delicate, was declined. 

The war was declared — and though for a time disastrous, its closing 
scenes redeemed the American charaeter. Chauncey, I Vi n , MeDonough, 
Macomb, Scott, Jackson — Champlain, Eric, Lundy's Lane, and .New Or- 
leans, can never be forgotten. 



12 

During the war Mr. Clay was transferred to Ghent, to assist the Com- 
missioners in forming a Treaty of Peace. In the debates of that Con- 
vention, Mr. Clay took a most decided part ; and for his noble stand in 
behalf of western rights, he deserves the deep gratitude of every western 
man. I refer to his course in reference to the exclusive right of naviga- 
tion of the Mississippi River. 

It will be remembered by my hearers, that by the Treaty of 1783, and 
that of 1794, commonly called Mr. Jay's Treaty, the Mississippi River 
was open as well to the subjects of Great Britain, as to the citizens of the 
United States. At both of these periods, Spain was entitled to the sover- 
eignty of the whole western bank of the river, and to the eastern bank 
as far as the 31st degree of north latitude. The United States were en- 
titled to the sovereignty of the eastern bank above this point, to the boun- 
dary line between the territory of the Uniled States, and of Great Britain ; 
which, according to the Treaty of 1783, was to be drawn from the Lake 
of the Woods, which would, as was then believed, strike the river below 
its source. If such was the case, Great Britain owning territory at the 
source of the river, would be entitled to free access at its mouth. 

At the Treaty of Ghent, the aspect of affairs was materially changed. 
Spain had relinquished all her rights to the United States ; and it was as- 
certained by actual survey, that a line drawn from the Lake of the Woods, 
would not strike the Mississippi River — consequently Great Britain could 
lay no claim to the right of navigation, as the river was exclusively within 
our jurisdiction. 

Mr. Gallatin proposed to surrender the right of navigation in exchange 
for a right to fish within British jurisdiction. Mr. Adams and Mr. Bay- 
ard concurred with Mr. Gallatin, thus composing a majority of the dele- 
gation. 

Against the surrender of western rights, Mr. Clay loudly protested ; 
declared he would sign no such Treaty, with such a provision in it — but 
would go home — appeal to the people, and use his influence to have the 
Treaty rejected, and let the war go on. Mr. Bayard finally agreed with 
Mr. Clay, and the provision was not inserted. 

What a debt of gratitude do we not owe to this far-sighted and patri- 
otic Statesman ? Who can tell what troubles and difficulties — what bor- 
der feuds — what constant sources of national irritation have been avoided ? 
The noble Father of Waters is now ploughed by a thousand steamers 
bearing the rich products of our soil ; and o'er these proudly float the 
stars and stripes. The prow of no foreign vessel divides its waters, and 



18 

no foreign nations rival us in the trade of this greal \ allej of the Wi 

This is not the place or the occasion to refer to the great subject of 
Protection to American Labor; to the advancemenl of which Mr. Clay 
devoted so many wars of his useful and honored life, with bo much zeal 
and earnestness, as caused his cotemporaries to bestovi upon him the proud 
appellation of the "Father of the American Sysb in." 

Acting as he did upon the benevolent principle, thai he " who can 
blade of grass to grow, where non ; re," is entitled to rank 

among the benefactors of man kin. 1 — he believed il to 1"- the policy of our 
country, to turn its labor into diversified and varied channels, and thus 
give constant occupation and ample remuneration to all; and with that 
enthusiasm which formed so prominent a trait in his character, he pressed 
his measures. 

Able and eloquent Statesmen differed with him in reference to National 
Policy. The records of their views and arguments are a portion of our 
history; and I would offend against your sense of propriety, were I but 
to glance at the subject. To speak of I iquent efforts in support of 

his own policy — with strict impartiality, I could not. We are her.: to-day 
to mingle together o'er the grave of departed worth, our feelings of p 
erence and love, for the services, of one whom all admire; and cold must 
be the heart, that does not see and feel enough in that life and character 
to admire, without striking one string that could produce one inharmonious 
note. 

So too, in regard to Internal Improvements. He saw this youn^ and 
growing country, with its thousand miles of sea coast — with its majestaa 
inland oceans — with its mighty rivers, llowing into the Gulfs of St. 
Lawrence and Mexico; and with a Statesman's pride, he strove to develop 
its boundless resources — strove to cement this blessed Union — the source 
of our national prosperity ; and by roads and canals, bind the people to- 
gether " with hooks of steel." 

Here he encountered the opposition of that pure and wise Chief Mag- 
istrate, James Monroe, on a constitutional point of difference — yet, with 
his characteristic boldness, he manfully contended for what he deemed 
right. The Cumberland Road is a monument tohi ; and the trav- 

eler, as he now threads his way across the mountains, o'er which has k-, n 
constructed a greater than an Alpine way, will find a monument of -ton. ■ 
surmounted by the Genius of Liberty, and bearing the name of Henlv 
Clay. 

His comprehensive patriotism, bounded by no section, but including in 



14 

its wide range the sterile coast of the North— the rich savannahs of the 
South — the crowded cities of the Eastr— the boundless prairies of the 
West, could, in the glowing language of the British Bard, exclaim— 

"Bid Harbors open — public ways extend ; 
Bid Temples, worthier of the God ascend ; 
Bid the broad arch the dangerous flood contain-— « 
The mole projecting, break the roaring main 
Back to its bed, the subject sea command, 
And roll obedient rivers through the land." 

But here again must we commit these to efforts impartial of history, 
who, with the spear of Ithuriel, will give shape and color to every object 
which he touches. 

Would that I could dwell in detail on other important events in the 
life of the great departed. Fain would I describe to you the agitation 
that pervaded our land, when our sister State of Missouri was knocking 
at the doors of our Union for admittance. Fain would I depict the gloom 
that shrouded every patriot's countenance, when the fires of disunion were 
kindled in our midst; when the exciting subject of Slavery was rocking 
this Union to its very centre ; when sectional feelings were aroused ; when 
the great interests of this government, on which are centered all the hopes 
of man, were in fearful jeopardy. And fain would I point you to those 
untiring and indefatigable efforts — to that high and holy love of country, 
which were displayed by Kentucky's most cherished son, and which were 
the means, under Providence, of averting from our laud the horrors of 
civil war. 

Fain would I love to dwell upon that ardent love of liberty, which 
espoused the cause of the suffering patriots of South America — that love 
for the great family of man, which induced the " great Commoner of our 
age " to encounter the sarcasms of the selfish politicians of that day, and 
boldly propose the recognition of the independence of the South Ameri- 
can Republics. To Henry Clat, not to George Canning, belongs the 
honor of calling the South American States into existence. 

The speeches made by him at that time, fell, it is true, unheeded upon 
the American ear — but Bolivar read them at the head of his army, and 
many a patriot at the base of the Andes, rushed to the contest, breathing 
the name of Henry Clay. 

Fain would I love to dwell on his efforts in behalf of strup-fflino- Greece 
i — and fain would I remind you, that amid the long buried ruins of the 
Parthenon, the name of Henry Clay is known and honored. 



ir, 

Fain would T refer to the Treaties of Amity and Commerce, made 
him whilst Secretary of State — more in number than those of any •• 

Seen (;nv up to that period of our history — hut I mnsl hurry onward 
The country was again in difficulty and danger. The hydra head of 

nullification was raised in our midst. Opposition to the laws of the Onion 
was boldly proclaimed. A gallant State, whose sod had 1 q drenched 

by the best blood of the Revolution; a State whose Marion and Pinkney, 
whose Laurens and Rutledge, had devoted their lives to the cause of 
American Independence. 

That devoted Patriot, whose love of country was only equalled by his 
iron will, Andrew Jackson — a man who never faltered in his purpose — 
patriotically proclaimed, that the laws of the Union should at all hazards 
be maintained; and to enforce them, he senl a gallant hrother in anus 
the present Commander-in-Chief of the U. S. Army, to Sonth Carolina. 

The people of our country rushed to the support of the Hero cf New 
Orleans. The Palmetto State armed herself to repel what she deemed 
an invasion. Bayonets bristled in her cities, and martial music was h>ard 
in her streets — and the time rapidly drew near when a hostile colhson 
must ensue. Dark and portentous was tie- horizon; deep rolled the dis- 
tant thunder; the lightning's fiery flashes played around, and the ship of 
State was tossed upon the billows of a stormy ocean. Despair filled the 
patriot's heart; the enemies of our free institutions sneered and rejoiced 
that the last Repuhlic on earth was destined to a speedy dissolution. 

But then, amid the howling of the storm-araid the roaring of the 
waves — amid the pealingsof Heaven's artillery, I saw a form leap forth— 
aye, in the fierce flashing of the storm, 

" I saw his proud, undaunted form, 
Upon the quivering deck, 
As with his eyes on Union'~ Star, 
By his unswerving skill afar. 
We shunned the threatening wreck." 

It is not for me to refer to the political campaign of 1840, in which 

Mr. Clay, although defeated before the Dominating Convention at Harris- 
burg, rendered such eminent services to his party; nor to the events that 
succeeded that fierce political contest; nor to the catastrophe that befel the 
people, when, in one short month, the pa ans of rejoicing were exchanged 
for the funeral notes of sadness; nor of the subsequent of the act- 

ing President. Suffice it to say, that it having been clearly demonstrated, 
that he could no longer be useful to his country, he. like a Roman veteran, 



16 

claimed an honorable discharge. Forty years of faithful service entitled 
him to that; he bade adieu to the scene of his triumphs, and retired to* 
the pleasant lawns and classic shades of Ashland. 

And here, whilst in the bosom of his family — in the midst of an affec- 
tionate people, by whom he was beloved — amid his flocks and herds, let 
us pause, and contemplate for a moment the moral and intellectual char- 
acter of the Sage of Ashland. 

Possessing a vigorous intellect by nature, well-framed by subsequent 
culture, Mr. Clay was a Republican and a philanthropist, from the very- 
dawn of his character. The study of the law he pursued under Chancel- 
lor Wythe, a man of Roman stamp, in Rome's best age. 

As a leader in a deliberative body, he had no equal in his day. Bold- 
ness, ardor, address, chivalry, were his prominent traits. Reverses could 
not crush, nor defeat discourage him ; nay, they seemed to give new 
strength, for he leapt like Anteus from the earth. 

In victory or disaster, he was ever the same — frank, bold, fearless, where 
duty lead him — he seemed to be born to command, and lead his gallant co- 
horts to battle, caring little whether he encountered one or twenty " Presi- 
dents ;" and whether the issue was defeat or victory, he was ever on hand to 
console or to applaud. He was ever prompt in decision, and firm in action. 

His, too, was a heroic, self-sacrificing spirit. Never did self seem ta 
animate him. Is he disappointed at the result of a nominating Conven- 
tion, like that of Harrisburg, in 1839. his response is, "what is a public 
man worth who is not ready to sacrifice himself for his country ?" 

Do the clouds of calumny and detraction lower around him — his answer 
is, as in a letter to the speaker who now addresses you — "I write this 
letter for your satisfaction, and not for publication. I would rather sub- 
mit to the effects of calumny, than betray any undue sensitiveness about 
it. I have outlived other calumnies, and by the blessing of God, will 
survive this and all others." 

Do friends counsel policy in reference to political action — they are met 
with the noble response, fit to be emblazoned on every lintel and door- 
post in our land — " I had rather be right than President." 

His eloquence, in a great degree, resembled Patrick Henry, another of 
Hanover's gifted sons. It was bold, fearless, soul-inspiring ; it was lite- 
rally a flame of fire, warming and kindling every generous emotion of 
the heart. 

With the most winning manners — with the most pure and generous 
impulses, he was idolized by all who came under the spell of his magic 



roice. No man iu oar day and generation ever had bo manj tried and 
unselfish friends. 

As a patriot, history will place him in the very foremost ranks, next 
and second only to Washington. 

Whenever the nation was in peril, lie soared above the passions and 
miserable jealousies of the hour, and knew no North, no South, do E 
no West — nothing but hie country. 

He was as open as the day — no man doubted what bis views of public 
policy were — they were transparent to the public eye. He was indeed 
"the noblest Roman of them all." 

It was a beautiful eulogy of a political opponent on the floor of tho 
House of Representatives, in paying the last tribute of affection to his 
memory; I mean the Hon. Mr. Breckenridg . tucky — for says this 

eloquent Statesman . 

" If I were to write his epitaph, I would inscribe, as the highest 6u! 
upon the stone that shall mark his last resting place, ' Here lies a man, 
who was in public life more than fifty years, and never attempted to de- 
ceive the people.' " 

A few short years ago, a voice of weeping and lamentation came across 
the waters. Then w r ere heard the mournful strains of that 

" Harp that once thro' Tara's Halls, 
The soul of Music shed " 

Those notes told of Erin — the Green Isle of the CK- an, clad in sackcloth, 
and alios; that the Heavens were brass, and the Earth iron; that the 
Almighty had let loose one of his m< tion — 

worse than the earthquake, the tornado, or the pi — gaunt, grim, 

stalking famine; that the living and the dead were laying aide by side in 
the hovel of penury; that the famished infant was languishing upon the 
cold and motionless bosom of affection; that the muscles of th< 
were shrinking; that day after day, the King of Terrors was reapirjg his 
dread harvest, and there was no help. 

Poor, starving, famishing Ireland, stretched out her attenuated and 
shrunken hand ; she raised her feeble voice for aid. 

In the Crescent City, in hopes of regaining shattered health, is an old 
man, near three score and ten. No official station is his; no pomp or 
pageants surround him ; no parasites attend him. He is a plain, honest, 
Republican. He had, but a short time 1> fore, been rejected by the peo- 
ple, for the highest office in their gift. He heard that voi •■, and those 
plaintive notes, and his generous heart was touched. He knew that it 
c 



IS 



was Ireland's Montgomery who crimsoned the walls of Quebec with hi* 
dying blood — and the bones of whose sons, fallen in the great struggle 
for our liberty, now lie mingled with the soil of every State, from New 
England to Palo Alto — and he came to the rescue. 

His voice was heard ; its clarion notes resounded through our land, 
pleading like angels, trumpet-tongued, for the sick, the starving, the dying 
— and it found an echo in every generous heart. The humane, the char- 
itable, the merciful, contributed cheerfully to this noble cause. 

The voice of kindness and sympathy was heard by our Legislators — 
and lo ! an American vessel of war spread its white sails to catch the 
freshening breeze, with the stars and the stripes proudly floating o'er it — 
bearing not the weapons of war and devastation, but bread for the starv- 
ing, and clothing for the naked, of poor, desolate, afflicted Erin. 

Time passed by, and our common country was in imminent peril. The 
acquisition of new territory opened again the exciting subject of slavery 
— a far more serious crisis than that of the Missouri, or the Compromise 
of 1833 had arisen. Section had been arrayed against section ; jealousies 
— heart-burning alienation, existed between the North and the South. 
All fraternal feeling seemed to have departed, and the doctrine of a south- 
ern confederacy was boldly broached. The Potomac was destined to be- 
come the boundary line between the two great Commonwealths ; and this 
great nation was to be rent in twain. Already were the initiatory mea- 
sures taken to effect this parricidal purpose. 

But there was a sleepless eye that watched the current of public affairs ; 
twice had he saved the country from domestic broils — and although load- 
ed with the weight of years and growing infirmities, he left his own 
delightful fireside, to enter again the arena of public life. 

How he toiled, how he labored, how he wielded the powers of his elo- 
quence and address, to conciliate opposing factions, is known'to all. The 
adjustment measures of that Congress are of too recent an occurrence for 
me to dwell upon. The storm has passed, but the ground-swell attests 
the violence of that storm. Whatever differences of opinion may exist in 
reference to a portion of these measures, they are now the law of the 
land ; and they have poured oil on the troubled waters, and caused the 
bright sunshine of peace and prosperity still to beam upon our land. 

There was one scene that took place at Washington a few short months 
ago, that mnst have been of surpassing sublimity. 

An exile from his Father-land — whose country had been crushed by 
the iron heel of the Cossack — who had been immured in the walls of the 



19 

Musselman's prison, arrived on oui -lions. An ovation waa bia, i 
equalled by that of the youthful Btrangi r, who, during the timea that 
tried men's souls, left the vine-clad hills of bia own delightful Frai 
fight for freedom in freedom's farthest land." 

Like the welcome to the gallant Lafayette, around the brave Hui 
rian, comes a congregated nation. Oio men bless, and children rei 
him; the lovely come out to look upon him: the learned deck their balls 
to greet him; the rulers of the land rise up to do bim honor. His jour- 
ney to the Capitol is a scene worthj of record, as thai of a Roman Coun- 
cil in Rome's most palmy day. lie pleads the 
country with undoubted eloquence and power, lie asks our people to 
afford him " material aid." Carried away by enthusiasm, and by ardor 
for popular liberty, our people are about forsaking the paths of peace and 
prosperity, which the " Great Father <>t' his country " so plainly marked 
out. 

At this interesting crisis of his tnij inl irview was Bought with 

the " Sage of Ashland." The Sag ever worshipped at the a 

Liberty -had ever been one voted votai . 

"As a dying man," to use bis own words, he addressed the gallant • 
He reiterated the long- non-inti rvi ni'.oa in the af- 

fairs of Europe, as best for this country — best for Europ< — ami best for 
the cause of Liberty ; and clasping the hand of the eloquent stranger, 
added, with bis most impressive 1 "that on every day his life was 
spared, bis fervent prayer should ascend to Almighty Go i. f'"r the pro- 
tection of the noble exile, and for bis restoration to his native land." 

No wonder Kossuth's bosom swell. I with unutterable emotion 
wonder tears rolled down the cheeks of the great Kentuckian — for it 
must have been most inexpressibly touching. 

Failing health now admonished that soon the silver cord would be 
loosed, and the golden bowl be broken. With a full knovi 
days of the years of his pilgrimage were drawing near I 
transmitted to the Governor i icky his resignation 

take effect from the fiist of September next 

From the memorable session of 1850, Mr. clay"- health gradually 
clined. The efforts made by him at thai trying time, proved too much 
for his wasted strength. His object in coming to V\ , was, if 

necessary, to defend the Compromise measures, if attacked; hut be was 
unable to participate in any of th .luring the long and 

dreary winter, he was confined to his chamber. 



20 

•' The chamber where the good man meets his fate, is privileged beyond 
the walks of ordinary life." 

If ever there was an instance, to which this beautiful and pious senti- 
ment was peculiarly appropriate, it is that which we have here assembled 
to deplore; nay, not to deplore — for what was there in the rare, harmo- 
nious, moral and intellectual accomplishments to deplore, but their loss. 

His worldly affairs were all arranged; his temporal matters disposed of; 
his last hour was rapidly approaching; he saw it approach with undis- 
turbed serenity; he counted the moments as they passed, and beheld that 
his last sands were falling. His great object now was to prepare " to meet 
his God." Death is at all times a fearful thmg — 

" It is a dread, a fearful thing to die." 

Tne warrior on the ensanguined battle-field, amid the smoke, the din, 
the excitement of the strife, when battling for the liberties of his country, 
if he dies, dies a glorious death — for we have been told, 

" Dulce el decorum est, pro patria mori." 

The elder Pitt, when using his highest intellectual powers, espousing 
the cause of struggling freemen, and carried away from the Council 
Chamber to the cold grave, has his name deservedly embalmed in history. 

John Quiucy Adams, on the floor of Congress, when rising to address 
the Speaker, but reclining in syncope — and there, at the post of duty, 
meeting the King of Tenors, will ever be cherished and honored by pat- 
riotic hearts. 

But to my mind, the spectacle of an aged Statesman, reclining on that 
couch from which he is never to rise ; at peace with God and man ; await- 
ing with meek and patient acquiescence, the summons; bowing with the 
humility of a child to the discipline of the rod — is one on which methinks 
men and angels would love to dwell. 

The holy minister of God tells us, that at his request, he administered 
to him the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. " This last act, more than 
any other, sheds glory around his character. This is all that can be en- 
rolled of him in the archives of eternity. 

He tells us, that being extremely feeble, and desirous of having his 
mind undiverted, no persons were present but his son and servant. There, 
in that still chamber — on a week-day noon — the tides of life all flowing 
around — three disciples of the Saviour — the minister of God, the dying 
Statesman, and his servant — partakers cf the like precious faith, commem- 
orated the Saviour's dying love. 



21 

He joined in the blessed Bacrament with great reeling and solemnity — 
now pressing bis hands together, and now spreading them forth, aawordt 

of the service expressed the feelings, desires, supplications, and thai 
givings of his heart.. 

It is in the moments of approaching dissolution, that the ruling passion 
is oftentimes displayed. 

Elijah and Klisha stood by Jordan — and the aged seer said onto bis 
young disciple — "ask what 1 shall do for thee, before I am taken away 

from thee." And Eliaha said—" I pray tl lei a double portion of thy 

spirit rest upon me." And he said — "thou bast asked a hard thing — 

nevertheless, if thou see me when I am taken from tl , ii shall l>.- so 

with thee — but if not, it shall not be so." 

Then came the chariot of fire, and the horses of fire, and Elijah went 
up by a whirlwind unto Heaven; but be dropped his mantle to the young 
Elisha. 

Haller, the great physician, nearing the confines of the unknown world, 
feeling his pulse, exclaimed, "My friend, the artery ceases to beat." 

Keats, the ill-fated but gifted child of genius, when asked, a littL while 
before his death, how he felt, answered — "hitter — I feel the daisies 
growing o'er me." 

Napoleon — the "setter up and puller down of Kings'' — heard in the 
beating of that terrible storm that howled around Long wood, the roar of 
the cannon, and ex< [aimed — "Head — Army." 

Cut the mind of Henry Clay was roaming amid the seenesof his happy 
youth and early manhood — wandering o'er the slashes of Hanover, and 
the shady groves of Ashland. 

He murmured in a gentle tone, " Mother?— mother? — wife? — <le<ir 
toife r — and with a glow of paternal feeling, outstretching hi- attenuated 
fingers, and clasping the hands of his affectionate sun, exclaimed, "do not 
leave me — lam going:" and in another moment his ransomed spirit was 
joining in the melody of the Heavenly Choir— --and methought 1 heard 
angels, arch-angels, seraphin, and cherubim, shout the "welconu home? 

So have I oft seen, on the hanks of yonder Lake, tlw glorious orb of 
day arise in its morning beauty. As it culminated towards the meridian 
dark and lowering clouds hovered around it; but as it descended the 
Western slope, it seemed to grow brighter and brighter, and larger and 
larger, until, in a Maze of glory, it descended beneath the horizon, and 
left a grateful, long, lingering, twilight behind. 

Upon the review of such a life, may we not say, " That life is long 
which answers life's great end ?" 



And now that he 5s gone, full of years, and full of honors, to his rest, 
and to his blessed reward, may we not all feel that he is gone — not like 
one — 

" who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams " — 

but like one — 

"Life's duty done — so sinks the Clay I 
Light from its load the spirit flies, 
Whilst Heaven and Earth combine to say, 
How blest the righteous, when he dies." 



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